


fever dream

by picht



Series: dust to dust and face to face [1]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Body Horror, Demons, Drabble, Graphic Description, Horror, M/M, Macabre, No Plot/Plotless, Other, Pre-Slash, Psychological Horror, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sleep Paralysis, Snippets, Supernatural Elements, Weirdness, demon brian david gilbert, not as like..scary as these tags are probably making it sound, stylized writing, will prob think of more tags to add later. it is nearly 5 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 08:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20373487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht/pseuds/picht
Summary: Pat’s demon is visiting him again.Pat’s demon has visited him every night for the past six months. It is difficult to perceive, his demon--especially in the dark of his stuffy bedroom, especially when he cannot look too hard for too long anywhere but away. If he so chooses, he may focus long enough that he can make out teeth (and teeth and teeth and teeth and teeth and), and beetle shell eyes (dark dark glossy dark lots lots lots), and arms (arms). He chooses not to focus for very long at all.(i bask in silence; want you to noticesimple yet complex ventricle taste testi'm on that side eye, black heart and tongue tiedi'm old and loaded--i want everything you've fucking got.)





	fever dream

**Author's Note:**

> mmmmmmmm here's another short lil bitch for a bigger verse exists in my head which i was not planning on writing but then i like woke up earlier at like 1 am after sleeping for an hour feeling suffocated by my cpap mask and extremely disconnected from my immediate reality and was like Its Time
> 
> once again cuz i'm a pretentious emo trusty punk (just like pat gill!) and i am at all times trying to indoctrinate my polygon friends with scemo (//_-), title/lyrics in the summary are from the song fever dream by frank iero. i sacrificed a pin to the mosh pit gods earlier this month during that song while seeing him live, it's only fair. you can (and should) listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJER3vZRSAE) before/during/after reading this for the #full #effect
> 
> finally, this is dedicated to wooz whose life i would end in a heartbeat given the chance, and also to all the bastards in my tumblr mutual discord server who are deadset in their endeavor to constantly try their hardest to ruin my fucking life (except for ford it's not dedicated to ford fuck you ford die)

Pat’s demon is visiting him again.

Pat’s demon has visited him every night for the past six months. It is difficult to perceive, his demon--especially in the dark of his stuffy bedroom, especially when he cannot look too hard for too long anywhere but _away_. If he so chooses, he may focus long enough that he can make out teeth (and teeth and teeth and teeth and teeth and), and beetle shell eyes (dark dark glossy dark lots lots lots), and arms (arms). He chooses not to focus for very long at all.

Pat’s demon likes to speak to him (Pat loves its voice). At first it was mostly words which Pat did not understand (or maybe it was words which Pat was afraid to understand). Long, stressed vowels, jaw disconnected like a snake sizing up its prey. Whispers, moans, whimpers. A horrible clicking. At some point, Pat had stopped spending his demon’s every visit staring at the blinding red numbers on his alarm clock till they ticked over to four am and he could go back to sleep, and instead began spending his demon’s visits watching as it crawled around the ceiling, wearing circles into the popcorn texture. He’d watched, and listened, and at some point his demon’s incomprehensible language turned to something he finally understood (or perhaps something which finally understood him).

Tonight, Pat’s demon has found itself in a new spot, perched upon the wall the side of his bed is pressed against. Over time, it has seemed to be coming closer and closer to him. It’s never gotten this close before (Pat wonders, sometimes, what will happen once it reaches him). It is humming (Pat loves its voice).

“Hello,” Pat says. It’s not audible; nothing he says to his demon ever seems to be. His demon still understands. It stops its humming and clicks back at him; were he to focus for long enough, he may be able to see the way its jaw(s? and teeth and teeth and teeth and teeth and) shift upon making the noise. He does not focus for very long at all.

“_Hello_,” he hears back, though he isn’t sure that his demon actually speaks the words out loud. “_How are you, Pat?_”

“I’m, um. Fine. ‘Searly, you know--” Because it is; his demon only seems to visit between three and four am-- “‘Sposed to train a new hire tomorrow, maybe a little stressed about it.” Pat pretends the way his name in his demon’s croaked voice makes him shiver is due to discomfort and nothing else (he loves its voice).

“_I see_.” It seems to inch closer, just a bit. Pat doesn’t notice (Pat never notices). “_Would you like for me to sing to you to help you fall back to sleep?_” The words themselves seem to be enough, at this point, for Pat’s eyes to slip mostly back closed, a yawn overtaking him as he nods his head. He loves his demon’s voice.

“_So vulnerable, Pat Gill. So precious. So mortal._” It’s not a compliment (is it a compliment?). Pat still feels compelled to say thank you.

He also feels compelled to truly _look_ at his demon, tired enough that when he processes the teeth (and teeth and teeth and teeth and teeth and), rather than the primal sense of fear he might typically expect to experience, he feels himself bare his teeth right back, slur out, “You’re not gonna eat me, right? When you touch me, finally? Least gotta tell me your name, first.” His demon clicks (his demon’s jaw clicks (his demon’s jaws click)).

“_Were you so inclined, you may call me Brian._” Something about the name causes the statement to permeate levels of his awareness even more deeply than is typical for the things his demon says. He doesn’t have time to examine it too closely, though, already being pulled back into sleep when his demon begins humming again; a song which makes Pat feel uneasy in only good ways.

(If, just before drifting off fully, he feels too long fingers in his hair and too hot breath on his neck, it’s fine, because it’s not like he’ll remember in the morning, anyway.

And if, when the new hire shakes his hand and wraps his small, graceful mouth around the syllables of their names--_hi, Pat, I’m Brian. I’m kind of a fan, haha, sorry if that’s weird_\--Pat stares a little too long at the dark polish on his nails, then the dark of his pupils, then the dark of the peeling spot of paint in the corner of the conference room because he feels, for the first time in his thirty years as an ex Catholic, such an overwhelming sense of truly righteous, biblical fear--

Well, that’s fine, too, because it’s not like he’ll remember by the end of the day, anyway.)

**Author's Note:**

> anyway if you liked this maybe be on the look out for more, if you're interested the tag i have for the verse on my tumblr can be found here: https://cripplepunkdyke.tumblr.com/tagged/demon%20brian%20au (i only have energy for one fancy link per fic). and finally:
> 
> bert: implementing a new strike system for this server if you get three strikes you're banned. in order to get a strike you just have to say anything that i do not like  
el generico: Pisstrick gill  
bert: that could easily be your third strike but i am going to go easy on you  
bert: thats not even a good pun  
bert: if youre going to try to piss me off with pat gill piss jokes the least you can do is making them actually disturbing (or as i like to call it. pissturbing)  
bert: patrickle gill  
bert: hm. im gonna ban myself  
el generico: Pisstrickle gill  
el generico: (The gills are for piss)  
Bean: Pat "Inflation fetish" Gill
> 
> so anyway i'm logging off forever and taking up residence in a cave for the next 30 years. its 5 am now please press f yall


End file.
